Elegy for Nicole

I think of her when I wash my hands,

remembering how she taught us

proper procedure during the pandemic.

*

It helped that she was doing it

in expensive lingerie, I’ll be honest.

I liked looking at her, that was the hook.

*

She was the only Instagram model

I ever followed. I started because

she was beautiful and a dedicated poster,

*

but I stuck around because she was funny

and smart and brooked no foolishness

from her followers when they got demanding or snarky.

*

I liked that about her, liked how

she played down the compliments

by reminding us it was $30k of cosmetic surgery

*

we were complimenting. It felt like

she was being real about it, at first.

But I could also discern a little shakiness,

*

more than a little insecurity in herself,

and she told us often that her job

was no walk in the park.

*

That made sense to me,

the pressures of being all things to all

people, being ON all the time,

*

basing your feelings about your Self

on the number of likes you get,

the number of followers you keep.

*

Validating the most intimate feelings

about your personhood

through the comments and actions of strangers.

*

The pandemic eventually ended,

and one day I realized I hadn’t

seen a post of hers for a long while.

*

Checking her profile,

I saw the page had been wiped save a

message to a lover and one remaining photo.

*

I did a quick search, and was shocked

to learn she’d taken her own life

with a gun.

*

Found by a parent during

a welfare check that ended

horribly, like so many of them do.

*

Look, she was a stranger to me,

a performer, making her life

a show for general consumption,

*

but the whole thing shook me.

She was someone’s child,

someone’s sister, a friend to many.

*

Even so, the depth of her pain

and sorrow overtook her until

she felt there was only one way to end it.

*

It bothered me then,

bothers me still, that anyone

should reach such a level of suffering.

*

So when I wash my hands now,

I think of you, Nic, remembering you

from different times.

*

I wish you could’ve found

another way out of your pain.

I wish you could’ve reached

*

out to someone who loved you

before making such an

irrevocable choice.

*

But mostly, I hope your spirit

found the peace you deserved,

and when you make your next appearance

*

on this plane of existence,

you’ll be a little stronger,

and a little kinder to yourself.